Skiing
by TreesAreSnazzy
Summary: And Ponyboy said, "he never went anywhere and never did anything anymore, except work out at gyms and go skiing with some old friends of his sometimes."
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Excuse the season I've set this in, I know it doesn't make sense since I've set the story in winter, four months after the Curtis parents death's and they died sometimes in January/February. I hope you can forgive me for that :)_

_Disclaimer: Nyeahno._

* * *

Warm socks, long johns, gloves, ski mask … Darry packed slowly, trying to hold an inventory list in his head. He would've wrote it down, if it weren't for the fact the Ponyboy kept stealing pens out of his room every time another one became lost in a book or bag.

Darry sighed at the idea of leaving his thoughtless little brother for the weekend. He was torn between excitement and something like dread. He wanted the excitement to fill him, to have the quality of the giddiness before a big game, before you reached the border of the next town and everyone got quiet and serious. He wanted it, but it was difficult to grasp. Trips anywhere, be it to the store or to the Nightly Double, made the Curtis brothers cautious. Darry would be at the phone calling up the gang whenever Ponyboy decided last minute to catch a matinee movie on the way home from the dime store on a Saturday. Pony would become antsy, flipping pages in a book he had yet to comprehend during the half hour Darry was stuck in traffic on his way home from work. Sodapop would be shooting the breeze with anyone who was willing to when suddenly he'd remember how long he'd been out and would feel the need to rush straight home.

It was overwhelming, and when Samuel had come for a visit unexpectedly with an invitation for a weekend ski trip, the word "no" had been hanging halfway in the air between he and Samuel when Pony and Soda had started shouting.

* * *

"That'd be great, Darry!" Soda cried cheerfully, jumping up and clapping Samuel on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Dar, you oughta go somewhere," Pony added with a nod.

Soda grinned at Samuel and Darry saying, "always knew you were a bright guy Sam, knowing when your buddies have just gotta get out."

Darry had interjected, "now hold on, who said anyone needs to get out? Who's gonna watch out for Pony, huh? You really want to stick around babysitting? How much is this gonna cost me, Sam?"

"I don't need no babysitter," Pony grumbled.

"Don't worry about money, Darry. Glenn's parents got a little cabin they're lending, you know that one we all stayed at senior year, and he's just asking ten bucks from everyone for food. That's all man, and it don't even need to be that much if you don't want. You know Glenn, he's aiming high hoping for a profit," Sam stated with a laugh, scratching his stomach.

Soda sat down on the couch heavily, still smiling, and punched Ponyboy playfully.

"Shoot, he can tag along. We'll be fine. If you don't wanna part with ten of your hard worked dollars, we'll sell Girl Scout cookies, won't we, Pone? Naw? Damn, I could've done with some of those Chocolate Mints. Well, I think we've settled things Sam, Darry's made it very clear that he's heading on up to the slopes!"

Soda settled back into the couch, looking quite proud of him self.

Samuel grinned at me and for a second I felt very old, it was as though I could feel wrinkles weighing heavy on my face and the eternal ache of sports injuries long past. It was like Sam was just a memory of what it was like to be a kid and all I could do was smile back wistfully. Then I realized, with a bit of surprise, that wasn't true at all. I glanced down at my hands, as tough and worked as leather but still smooth; still the hands of a young guy. I told him cheerfully that I'd be seeing him.

* * *

The sun was waking little by little, casting feeble, sleepy rays of light onto the hardwood floors.

"Be happy," Darry urged himself quietly. "you-"

Darry cut himself off mid-sentence. He had been ready to say, "You don't stop living because you lose someone." It was what Dad told them all when their grandfather died, but it hadn't been directed at them at the time, or so Darry thought. He was beginning to wonder if Dad had said it to them on purpose, as a piece of advice for later in life. But he wouldn't think of that then, it'd just depress him. And man, was he sick of being sad.

Not knowing how he'd react, he looked up at a double-oval picture frame that sat upon his dresser. His mother smiled sweetly on the left, his father grinned broadly on the right. His heart sank, and he diverted his eyes to the picture beside it. There he was, his brothers hanging over either shoulder. Sodapop's eyes glowed with all the gentleness of their mother tossed hodgepodge in the recklessness of their father. There was Darry, the same proud face of Darrel Senior but the quiet reserve of Mrs. Curtis well preserved. And Pony, nearly tumbling out of the frame as though being in the photograph at all was a mere impulse, wearing hand-me-downs of character from each of them. Their parents weren't as gone as they felt.

Darry shut the suitcase and locked it with satisfaction. He nearly burst out laughing when he realized that he was grinning, and finally remembering how good being happy can really feel.

Ponyboy and Sodapop woke up hours after Darry's departure, the sun shining bright, Winter white. Pony liked Winter, the word of Stopping By the Woods always coming to him at the mere thought of the season. He was enjoying the cozy warmth of his bed in contrast with the cool air outside the covers until Soda leaped out of bed quite suddenly when he heard the familiar slam of the front door that announced Steve's arrival, and dragged the blankets half way across the room and off the bed. Pony shivered a bit as he fished around under the bed for a sock he had kicked off in the night. It was too bad that they couldn't put the hot water heater on too high, it was nice to wake up and wrap up in a blanket and to sit in front of the intense heat. With the temperature it was on now, it wasn't even worth it. This was one of the many things that Ponyboy missed from before his parents died, but something, among other things, he would give up forever if it meant getting his parents back. Besides, the house would warm up once it was packed full of rowdy greasers. He tried to warm his spirits with the thought that Darry wouldn't be nagging about every little thing he did but it was only a half-hearted attempt. Shortly after waking, Pony realized that it wasn't Darry who woke him like he was expecting, but Sodapop. he didn't know why it was bugging him but it made it difficult to be happy that Darry wasn't around when he couldn't remember him leaving in the first place.

"Where's Mr. Darrel Curtis on this woeful Winter morn?" Two-Bit asked. He was standing behind Pony as he tried to comb his hair and kept flicking the comb whenever Pony was close to getting it just perfect.

"Would you cut it out?" Pony said irritably, elbowing Two-Bit in the chest. "He went skiing."

"Cut what out, cut out all that hair? Well gee, Ponyboy, I could if you just let me go get the scissors but you work so hard on that greasy mop I don't know if I'd have it in me."

Pony didn't even attempt to stop Two-Bit for the time being, it'd only encourage him. Instead he combed his hair back in a simple manner and exited the bathroom.

"Hey," Steve called from the kitchen over the radio that was playing Brown Eyed Girl. "Darry left y'all doughnuts."

Within moments of this revelation, all four boys were in the kitchen, attacking the box as though they hadn't eaten in days. Pony thought about this as he chewed his doughnut slowly, savoring the flavor. It wouldn't really be that surprising if they hadn't eaten in a good twenty-four hours. Sometimes because there's not much to eat, other times because there's just something more interesting than food going on.

Sodapop stuffed a chocolate doughnut into his mouth, grabbed a chair with the other hand and straddled it backwards. Leaning over the top he asked in a wet, muffled voice, "what's crackin'?"

"Nothin'," Pony replied, scratching at the peeling tabletop.

"Hey," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. "Why do you think that Darry didn't say bye? I asked him to wake me up."

"He probably just didn't wanna," Soda replied immediately. "You look awful tired today, anyway. Imagine if he had woken you up? You wouldn't come back round till noon and by then there'd be no doughnuts."

Two-Bit strolled by and snatched one of the said doughnuts out of the box.

"And you snooze you lose, ain't it right or ain't it right?" He said.

"Ain't it right that you're cruisin' for a bruisin' because that's mine," Steve replied snarkily, grabbing the doughnut and shoving it in his mouth whole.

"Yeah, that's some real talent there, Stevie. Been practicing a long time shoving things in your mouth like rocks, socks, and cocks," Soda teased, knowing full well how it'd get Steve worked up.

Pony tilted back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling so Steve wouldn't see him grin. He wasn't in the mood for wrestling or the like so, edging around the flailing fight on the floor and passing by Two-Bit who was betting on who would win the fight with higher stakes every half second, settled into the living room with A Separate Peace. But no matter how many times he turned his eyes down to the page, he always found them looking out the window to the driveway.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much to those who reviewed last chapter._

_Disclaimer: I duhn own The Outsiders._

* * *

After eating breakfast, the boys had headed out to the lot with the intention of rounding up Johnny and Dally for a game of football but when neither boy could be found the idea was pushed away. No one minded too much though because, although no one wanted to be the first to admit it, it was freezing outside.

"I oughta head on up to the DX," Steve said, rubbing his arms inconspicuously to get to the blood flowing.

Pony was going through cigarettes even faster than usual, relishing in the minute amount of heat the match gave off.

"Hey, why don't you come and ask the boss man if you can pick up a couple of hours? That smartass kid, what's his name, Roy or Roger, he ain't coming in today so it's just gonna be me," Steve urged. If someone who wasn't used to the nature of Steve and Sodapop's friendship had seen the way the two had gone at it this morning, they'd be quite baffled by this idea. Steve's head was still aching from when Soda accidentally slammed it into Two-Bit's knee and Soda's big toe was snapping with every step after having cracked loudly when Steve's boot dug into the socked foot. Many would need at least a day to get over these grievances and while the boys couldn't help complaining at least every five minutes, it was a jibing, teasing sort of complaint that had the feel of an inside joke.

"Naw, I promised Darry I wouldn't work this weekend. Me and Pony are probably just gonna bum around with Two-Bit," Soda replied.

"Yeah," Two-Bit added, "I got some plans for the three of us. Know them Rock 'Em Sock 'Em things? Well, Anderson's store has got a couple hiding in the back from Christmas and seeing as how my Mom didn't believe me when I asked her for one I'm thinking I gotta get me one myself."

Soda and Steve started laughing but rather than look embarrassed, Two-Bit merely looked proud at getting them to laugh. As much as he loved lifting things, he had to say that getting people to laugh was better, and he hardly ever had to steal a laugh from someone. Though, of course, stealing came back into the picture when he forced a chuckle from an uptight soc who hardly knew the joke was on him. Actually, those were the best kinds of jokes, Two-Bit decided. So really he loved stealing just as much as everyone thought, just not always the stuff he was expected to steal.

"How you gonna get that out of the store? It's in a box," Ponyboy said, speaking up for the first time since leaving in the house.

"Don't you got any saddlebags you could hide it in?" Two-Bit asked, wrinkling his forehead innocently.

"Don't you got any better jokes?" Pony inquired, mirroring Two-Bit's expression.

"I'm leavin' now 'cause I don't think my sore head can stand listening to neither of you chuckleheads much longer," Steve said, knocking the toes of his boots on the ground.

This reminded Pony of Soda getting ready to ride in a rodeo. Soda would knock the dust of his boots by tapping them against the ground, would straighten his collar, and tip his hat so his eyes, glowing with excitement, would just barely peek out at the girls who'd be sighing, "_oh,_ that Sodapop Curtis."

The boys waved their good-byes and went off in opposite directions. Neither Pony nor Soda were very surprised to find out that Two-Bit really did want to get himself one of those Rock 'Em Sock 'Em deals.

* * *

"Why?" Pony asked, stepping from the street to the curb to avoid being hit by oncoming traffic.

"It'll be good for learning fight tactics, it'll help me become the best Soc Stomper we've got on this side of town," he replied instantly.

"'Fraid you're gonna have to take that title from me, and I ain't planning on giving it up anytime soon. I am proud to state that I have never lost a fight." Soda ducked his head and raised a fist like an exhausted boxer.

"Darry's never lost a fight either," Pony pointed out.

"Ah, but Darry don't just stomp, he obliterates," Two-Bit said wisely. "He makes them squares feel like they're nothing but one of us dirty greasers."

"What a shame," Pony replied with quiet sarcasm.

The three passed a few minutes walking in companionable silence, save a moment when they were stopped at a corner and a girl stared at Soda's scuffed sneakers appraisingly and he winked and whispered, "if you shoes slip and slide, get the ones with the stars on the side!" But aside from that, they were quiet, which was highly unusual for Two-Bit.

When they reached the Anderson's store, Two-Bit reached for the doorknob but stopped before opening it. He looked over his shoulder at Ponyboy and Sodapop.

"Although I was completely serious about becoming the best Soc Stomper," Two-Bit began, "I have other thoughts about what could come with the obtainment of the said Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots."

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" Soda asked curiously, hooking his thumb in his belt loop and leaning back on his heels. Pony unconscientiously adopted a similar stance.

"In my English class, we been reading Robin Hood."

This didn't surprise Pony; although Two-Bit was a junior, he was put in remedial classes. Pony said nothing about first having read Robin Hood in the third grade but instead asked what Robin Hood had to do with anything.

"Well to make a long story short, I heard Denny Palaski tellin' Bruce Rogers 'bout how the Anderson's had them toys hanging around in the back of the store still. He said he was aiming to steal the Robots. Not for any reason he said, just to do it. Probably would run it over with his Buick, he said."

"So you're gonna steal so the rich can't steal just for the hell of it?" Soda asked, scratching his head. Two-Bit nodded and said, "Sounds 'bout right."

"You steal just because all the time," Pony said.

Two-Bit grinned.

"I do, don't I?" Then, pulling the door open, he added in a lower but still cheerful tone, "you know the drill."

They did know the drill. Actually, there were many drills and the whole gang knew how things worked when someone wanted to lift something. At particular places, a job required just one guy to go in. That usually happened at places where the owner was older and fearful of too many boys in leather jackets who wore their hair slicked back being around all at once. Other times, every man was required in order to pull the attention away from the one guy who was looking to swipe something.

These drills were so engrained in each boys brain, it didn't need to be said which one was needed. The second kind was the sort needed for that day and Soda was jumping to the punch, putting his whole heart into assisting his friend partake in delinquent acts. It's what he'd do for any of his buddies.

"Marilyn, that sure is a pretty name. Pretty face to go with it, too."

The girl at the counter, Marilyn Anderson, had been near falling asleep at the counter before the three boys walked in. She knew them all. She knew that the guy with the side-burns was Two-Bit Mathews, the funniest kid at Will Rogers. She didn't know the auburn-haired kid's name, but she sure knew who his brothers were. She remembered Darrel from the football games she had gone to faithfully ever since she was a kid and then Sodapop … he hardly came to school anymore, but she noticed when he did. Why, the things she do-

Marilyn had nearly jumped through the ceiling when the boy she thought of so fondly appeared in front of her. She had turned as red as her cardigan when he had nodded at her genially and greeted her by name. She had nearly fainted, wondering how he knew _her _name, but then remembered her nametag. This made her blush even more deeply.

"Ya know, I was wonderin' if you could show me where the orange juice would be. I haven't had none in weeks. My little brother here was supposed to be a good little housewife and get some be he went and decided that we could do without juice for just a few more weeks."

"Who really needs orange juice?" Pony shrugged.

"Oh, uhm-" the girl muttered wildly, wondering where her words had run off to. Sodapop spared her embarrassment and went on as if she hadn't uttered a sound.

"Well, I was fine for a few days but I woke up this morning with a real hankerin' for some good orange juice and I just couldn't wait any longer and had to head straight here. This store's a little farther off than the QuikTrip but they sure don't got anyone with as pretty a name as Marilyn workin' for then, and no one who'd be as sweet on helping me as you would."

Pony could hardly contain his laughter. Poor Marilyn was clinging to the counter, obviously fearing she may faint at any moment. She stared across the store to where the orange juice was located and thought fearfully upon the daunting task of getting from her counter to there without falling flat on her face. Soda followed her gaze and realized he had to change directions, as the orange juice was located awfully close to where Two-Bit was surveying the toys.

"Actually, orange juice isn't what I've been wantin' at all. I actually came here with the hope of-" he sighed dramatically. "You know honey, why don't you just get me some cancer sticks, how 'bout that? I don't care what kind- no not those, not those neither-"

The bell on the door jingled as Two-Bit exited the store, the box hardly hidden beneath his jacket.

"Those ones are perfect."

Marilyn turned back around and handed Soda a pack of Winstons. Pony didn't like Winstons, but he always got a kick out of how Dally called them "pansy-ass weeds that screw the name of Winston."

He made sure to hold up his act, even after Two-Bit's departure and gave Marilyn a wistful look as he handed her the money and left promptly. He felt a little bad for playing the girl like that at the end, but not too much. He knew Sandy wouldn't be happy with him if she ever heard the story, but she most likely wouldn't. Well, at least he knew she wouldn't hear it from him.

"You oughta go into actin', Soda, that was perfect," Two-Bit praised, pulling the box out of his jacket once they turned the corner. "And you, Kid," he added, nodding at Pony. "I gotta say, you got a way with words yourself. "Who needs orange juice?" Boy howdy, they must be nominating you for the Oscars already."

"Aw, shut up. I shoulda said more, there was enough time with you prancing around back there. I woulda said more, too, but Soda's voice was not only making her swoon, but the only thing keeping her from fallin' on the floor, too."

"Oh, I bet you woulda. Just savin' your breath to smoke those pansy cancer sticks. Oh boy, when Dally sees you!"

"Soda was then one who bought 'em, I don't even _like_ Winstons. You better shut up Two-Bit or I'll-"

* * *

Two-Bit, Sodapop, and Ponyboy went back to the Mathew's house, where the warmth of a furnace that was kept on high all winter long welcomed them.

For awhile, Two-Bit did do as he said he would and created epic rumbles-yet-to-come and demonstrated what he'd do to those socs when they got to him. This was entirely a story about blow to the face after blow to the face, seeing as how that was all the robots could do. Two-Bit had the two Curtis boys laughing when he began shouting about how a blow to the face was what would win it everytime, how he'd run around rumbles knocking people's blocks off, when his little sister came prancing through the door, tugging her mother's hand. She squealed with delight when she saw the toy. It didn't matter that girls weren't supposed to like toys like that, that it was for boys. All she could think of was how it was new and had come from a box. Little Ann Mathews hardly had any store-bought toys, mostly her mother just twisted up dishclothes and called them dolls. Annie looked at the robots with a creative eye and said to her big brother, "they're really just dolls, ain't they? I could dress 'em up!"

Two-Bit agreed heartily, swinging her onto his back and running around the room. Talk of socs stopped immediately. Mrs. Mathew's asked no questions of where the toy had come from, just told Two-Bit he'd done a nice thing for his sister. Two-Bit shrugged.

Pony and Soda no longer wondered what Robin Hood had to do with anything.


	3. Chapter 3

_Is anyone still reading this? You know, I started this story for two scenes, two very small scenes that will take all of ten seconds to read, and I haven't even gotten to writing then yet. _

_Disclaimer: I think you get the general gist._

* * *

"Soda, let's just stay here awhile longer," Ponyboy begged when Sodapop began to show signs of leaving the Mathews house.

It was going on eleven o'clock and they both had school in the morning. Actually, Sodapop probably would take so long getting up that they'd be at least forty-five minutes late and then he'd probably go off and play hookie after auto, his only class with Steve and the only class he enjoyed, save gym.

"C'mon, Pony, it's getting late and we got school," Soda said. He grimaced at the thought of waking up early the next morning when the air is still so cold that it tickles your bones and then thought of walking to school or waiting to hitch a ride with someone.

Ponyboy, usually so easy to give into Soda, ransacked his mind for excuses to stay away from home. From the moment he became aware that night was falling down on Tulsa Pony went into a silent panic. Every minute, every hour he would tire more. Every minute, every hour brought him all that closer to the time when Darry would have him hustle to bed. And that was what he dreaded all day.

Soda and Darry knew that Pony had been having dreams and even though the dreams spooked them, they couldn't fully comprehend Pony's terror. When he didn't wake up screaming bloody murder, he could mostly keep his brothers from finding out he had dreamed at all. He would've told them if it wasn't for feeling of utter stupidity he got every time he attempted to explain. Pony couldn't help think of the things some other guys had to go through, things much worse than a nightmare. A nightmare wasn't all that bad.

But they were.

"Well, I don't-can't we …" Pony rambled desperately.

"Why don't y'all just here the night? I'll drive us in the morning," Two-Bit cut in. He opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. It was inches away from his mouth when Mrs. Mathews snatched it away swiftly.

"Didn't know you were there, Ma," Two-Bit said, carelessly. Mrs. Mathews knew Two-Bit drank and Two-Bit knew he drank, but neither liked the other to know that they knew those things. It was easier to pretend there was no such thing as alcohol when the alternative was remembering that your husband and daddy drank the stuff like water. It was hard to do when you were forced to work in a bar for a living because that husband and daddy skipped out on you. So even though both people's pretending that booze had no place in their home was pretty much useless, the two kept it up. What else could they do without going crazy?

Pony couldn't help thinking it was funny that Mrs. Mathews had known the Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots were hot and didn't say a thing, but cared about the drinking.

"What if you don't wake up? Darry'd be real mad if Pony and me didn't get to school," Soda said, sighing. He'd been planning for weeks, silently, to quit school and start working full-time at the DX. It was fun working at the DX only part-time, but Soda knew that his small salary hardly even put a dent in their family's expenses. Maybe working full-time could help that. When he thought about school, the way he fumbled about in low-level classes, Soda wanted to drop-out that much more. No teacher tried to let Soda know he wasn't stupid by explaining the lesson that much further; if he left, he'd be one less line in the grade books, that's all.

"Don't worry, my momma wouldn't let me sleep in when I got guests."

"Yeah, I expect manners from my boy. You better be getting Ponyboy and Sodapop breakfast tomorrow and everything," said Mrs. Mathews.

Pony and Soda liked that Mrs. Mathews always said their names without hesitation. Both boys remembered going to friends houses and getting into some kind of childish trouble that would send mothers running in screaming, "Richard Francis, Kenneth Edwards, Gregory Alan! I'm calling your parents _now_!" and the way they'd struggle to shout out, "Ponyboy Curtis" or "Sodapop Curtis" because to those mothers, saying those names made it seem like the joke was on them. Mrs. Mathews never did that. Then again, what can you expect from a woman who calls her own son Two-Bit?

Mrs. Mathews said goodnight to the boys, telling Two-Bit to make beds up for Pony and Soda. This didn't happen, of course. Two-Bit told Soda to take the couch and Pony to take the chair, gave them each an afghan and went to his own room.

Pony's heart was quivering in his chest. He had hoped that sleeping somewhere different would help. He talked to Soda for as long as he could, praying he'd just fall asleep mid-thought, without even knowing it because a person can't dream if they don't even know if their asleep. It was working okay, too, until Sodapop was the one who fell asleep first. Pony sat up straight in the chair for a long time, staring into the darkness. The strangest things looked sinister; the clock on the wall, the dusty figures on the shelf. Occasionally the velvety, black dark would grow. The few things that Pony could see would disappear, and darkness would engulf him. Panic would just be setting in when suddenly the dark would recede, like tides from the shore.

By two o'clock, Pony couldn't stand it much longer. He tiptoed to the bathroom and opened the cupboard. A sigh of relief escaped him when he found the bottle of sleeping pills he'd been looking for. Expertly, he popped three in his mouth and went back to the chair. Pulling the afghan over his head, Pony's eyes were already shutting. It felt so wonderful to drift into sleep, Pony thought to himself vaguely that he'd have no nightmares that night.

* * *

Sodapop awoke to his name being called.

Pony was thrashing in the chair like a landed fish, his head thrown back.

"S-soda," Pony whimpered quietly. In the next moment he screamed, "_Soda!"_

At first, Sodapop was relieved to see that Pony's eyes were open but when he screamed, Soda realized that his brother wasn't awake at all. He scrambled off the couch and threw himself at Pony.

"Oh, c'mon little brother, wake up," Soda begged desperately, wrapping his hands around Pony's upper arms, shaking him.

"What's going on?" a sharp voice shouted from the hall. Soda let go of his brother momentarily, shocked by the voice. He was even further surprised when Two-Bit flicked a light switch and stepped out of the hall, a grimy, but very heavy, baseball bat in hand.

Ponyboy groaned, whipping his hands up to his face. Soda dragged his eyes away from Two-Bit and back to Pony. With some effort, he pried away Pony's hands. There were red marks where his fingernails had dug into his forehead. He was quiet now, save a few hiccupping breaths of air.

"You okay?" Soda asked, hugging Pony to his chest. Pony whispered a quiet "yeah", pressing his face into Soda's shirt, intent on not moving until he was sure no more tears would escape him. When this happened, he leaned back and finally noticed Two-Bit standing in the doorway.

"Hey," Pony asked, fighting the quiver in his voice. "Why you got a bat?"

Two-Bit dropped the bat, looking sheepish. Then, not because it really applied but because he hoped it would make Pony smile he said, "What we _got_ here is failure to communicate."

And though it was weak, it worked.


End file.
